


In the Sand and the Spray, Be Mine From Forth This Day

by Kisleth



Series: Lights on the Water [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Nautical, Deep-Sea Fishing, Fluff, Happily Ever After, Lighthouses, M/M, Romance, Wedding, getting married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 00:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3708765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisleth/pseuds/Kisleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deep-sea fishing/lighthouse AU. It's their end—end to loneliness, to solitude. Together they will start anew as one, forever, as long as they both shall live in front of witnesses. Friends and family gather to behold two becoming one.</p><p>Twilight, when their handholding began, is a perfect time to cement the permanency of their combined lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Sand and the Spray, Be Mine From Forth This Day

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for your patience. Originally, I wanted to have this finished and posted for their wedding day, but life got ahold of me and I have just haven't had a writing muse for too long. Something struck me the other day and I found myself with a renewed desire to write and I didn't want to keep everyone waiting until September!
> 
> For all intents and purposes, the series is complete. Officially. Unofficially, I have a few other stories I do want to add, and I'll put in anything else I think of for these two. And at some point I have a few side Tony and Steve fits to write for this verse...

Clint fidgets, cuffing and uncuffing his right sleeve in anticipation. It's a good thing he isn't wearing a tie, otherwise he might strangle himself with it (or Natasha just might do the honors for him). He's nervous, of course he's nervous. He's getting freaking married. Clint fiddles with his engagement ring, on the opposite hand for the ceremony, and tries not to chew on his lip too much.

He finds himself reminiscing, the muddle of time making it unclear how everything has pointed to this day in early September. Had it really been only a year and a half since he and Phil first started talking? What if this was too soon? What if it didn't work out? This isn't his first marriage, the previous one had failed due to his love of his lighthouse, what is Gallantry Light and the _Triskelion_ , their first loves, tore them apart?

Before he can work himself into a dither, Natasha finds him in his hiding place under the lighthouse's winding staircase. She looks stunning in her dress, a deep blue to match the rest of the wedding party. The skirt was comprised of points, the longest going mid-calf, and the whole thing flowed around her. "Are you ready, _ptichka_?"

"No, no, I— what if he—" he is chewing on his lip before he even knows it, tugging his ring off and slipping it back on over and over.

"Clint, he's doing nothing but waiting for you to walk your stunning self down to him and to stay by his side like you have for as long as you've known him." She picks up his vest from the bannister—so deep a blue it looks black—and holds it up so he can thread his arms through it. She pins a boutonnière to his lapel, made of two soft ropes knotted simply. A gold button is affixed to it with the Coulson crest in gold upon a field of blue. She has a similar corsage around her right wrist.

"Yeah?" Clint swallows nervously and wipes his hands on his pants before buttoning the one button on his vest.

"Yes. Now, let's go. Everyone is waiting for me to give you away." She grabs his hand and loops it through her arm, pulling him out of his lighthouse and into the house proper. Clint catches a glimpse of a pile of gifts, and the four tiered cake with a lighthouse on top and the Triskelion at its base, and a leftover invitation is on their coffee table, navy cardstock with a vertically striped navy and white ribbon, finished off with a small, thin starfish.

Stepping out into the warm air, Natasha leads Clint through the backyard set up with tables covered in white—cloths, flowers, lighthouse centerpieces—and down the sandy path to the shore where everyone is waiting as the sun is starting to set. His breath hitches when he spots Phil, standing in the shallow water along with the entire crowd of guests. It takes everything not to run, to him or away.

Together, they pass the Howling Commandos crew, Melinda, Tony, Pepper, Peter and Gwen, Phil's mother, his sister and her husband and their two kids, and a scattering of fishermen, lighthouse keeps, and locals. Steve and Nick, Phil's best man, stand on either side of Phil, who looks tense to Clint, even if he is facing away at the moment. Steve smiles at Clint over Phil's shoulder, but he doesn't notice because Phil has turned to look at him. He's gorgeous, the navy jacket a sharp relief against the crisp white shirt and the riot of color between sea and twilit sky.  

Natasha pulls away when he's in arm's reach of Phil to stand in her spot next to him as his "best man". Phil and he reaches for each other, their fingers tangling together with practiced ease. The world falls away and Clint's chest feels tight as he gives Phil a blinding smile. He doesn't know how long they just stare at each other, but Steve clears his throat to drag him out of his own mind.

"Dearly Beloved," he begins, spreading his hands to clasp each Phil and him on the shoulder briefly, "we are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join Philip Coulson and Clinton Barton in matrimony commended to be honorable among all; and therefore is not to be entered into lightly but reverently, passionately, lovingly and solemnly. Into this—these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together—let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

Clint strains to hear any kind of protest, but all that meets his ears is the waves and a lone gull above them. He squeezes Phil's fingers and takes a slow breath as Steve continues. They had chosen a passage to be read before their vows, but Clint doesn't really remember what it was about, only half-listening to it now. The words don't sink in, just wash over him. Before he knows it, it's over.

"It is the wish of the grooms for a moment of silence for those who could not be here today; For Captain Brandon Connell, a dear friend of Phil’s who was killed in action not three months ago, for Clint’s Grandfather and the last keep of Gallantry Light, Arnold Mayhew Gibbs, for Phil’s father, Commander Kenneth Coulson, also killed in action, for Clint’s mother and father, Edith and Harold Barton."

Phil tightens his grip on Clint's hands as Steve lists the names, and Clint squeezes right back. The silence stretches for a minute before Clint begins to sing. The words are halting from his lips, his Gaelic rusty, but the song familiar. He pictures his mother singing it with him, the only memory he has of her after all these years. The song sounds like a lullaby, even though the words are full of sad love for passed family. Phil joins him, echoing in English, the last verse. "I think of the day, that you were beside me, telling me a story of the old life. I remember the day, without want and without gloom. Be with me always, day and night."

Clint's eyes sting with welling tears, and he can see behind Phil's glasses that he isn't the only one. Steve lets them have their moment and when they both have everything under control, Phil's best man, Nick, passes the rings to Steve. They are tied with a white ribbon to a small navy pillow, in case they were dropped they would at least float on the water.

"I, Philip Coulson, pledge my days as well as my nights to you, Clint, be they on land or sea. I will be your husband," he pauses, the corners of his mouth curling like he can't stop himself from doing so. Clint smiles back and Phil continues with a brief squeeze of his hands, "your friend, your faithful partner, on this day and all my tomorrows. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the one before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward for as long as we both shall live."

"I, Clint Barton, pledge my nights as well as my days to you, Phil, be they on together or apart. I will be your husband," Clint pauses at the word as well, the weight of it sinking in and making his heart clench. His chest feels impossibly full but he manages to slowly breathe and continue, "your friend, your faithful partner, on this day and all my tomorrows. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the one before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward for as long as we both shall live."

They turn to Nick, who unties the the ribbons holding their rings safely. Both are made of titanium, so they might match and stand up to the level of work Phil does nearly every day. Sandwiched in the middle of Phil's ring is two blackened stainless steel cables wrapped around the circumference, and around the thick edges is the motif of waves. Lastly, inside, are the words _I am his Voice in the Silence_. Clint releases the hand in his left almost regretfully to pick up Phil's ring, lifting Phil's left hand.

"I, Clint, give you, Phil, this ring as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you." He slides the ring on, blinking back happy tears. He clears his throat softly as Phil's hands slip from his so that he can pick up Clint's ring. His ring is thinner, with only one cable to Phil's two. He'd needed a narrower ring to wear it comfortably with his engagement ring. Clint can read the words inside, I am his Light in the Storm, as Phil holds it just before his fingertip.

"I, Phil," he begins with the tiniest tremble in his left hand where he holds Clint's hand, it vibrates through them both. The hand with the ring is steady, lest he drop it. Clint can't tear his eyes away and has to focus hard to hear him over the pounding of his heart, "give you, Clint, this ring as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you." A tear escapes and trickles down Clint's cheek as the ring slides home.

Someone claps once, but the ceremony isn't over yet. Clint doesn't look away from Phil, needing a moment to compose himself before they recite in call and answer. "You have become mine forever." Clint's voice warbles a little and he has to clear his throat as Phil continues the poem.

"Yes, we have become partners." He threads their fingers together, his ring bumping Clint's engagement ring with a faint click that is nearly drowned out by the waves.

"I have become yours."

"Hereafter, I cannot live without you."

"Do not live without me." He hears the soft pleading in his voice, something he hadn't intended. Phil smiles, and it's warm and reassuring.

"Let us share the joys."

"We are word and meaning, united."

"You are thought and I am sound."

"May the night be honey-sweet for us." Clint smiles back, for the night already is, whether in person or over the radio.

"May the day be honey-sweet for us."

"May the seas be gentle for us." He knows he worries too much when the water is rough, thinking of Phil being out there alone. Phil knows he worries and he has always been careful.

"May the winds blow homeward for us." As if summoned, a warm, briny breeze whispers around them, ruffling their clothes and tousling their hair. They pause a moment and share a soft chuckle.

"May our world be honey-sweet for us." They end in unison.

When Steve doesn't speak right away, Clint looks over to him to see him grinning, his cheeks pink and his eyes bright. He is at a visible loss of words for a few moments, his mouth opening and closing a few times to find his words, even when the pair look at him a little expectantly. "By the power vested in me by St Pierre et Miquelon, I now pronounce you wed. You may kiss the groom."

Clint barely lets Steve finish saying groom before he's cupping Phil's face with one hand, the other planted firmly at his lower back so that he may dip him. He feels the small squeak through Phil's lips over hearing it and he smiles into the kiss as Phil's fingers thread into his hair. Their audience laughs and claps, even when Clint pulls back to rest their foreheads together.

"Can I stand now?" Phil murmurs, looking up into Clint's eyes. He chuckles and nods a little, rubbing their noses together as he straightens up, bringing Phil carefully with him.

"I present to you the newly married couple, Clint and Phil." Steve announces as they turn to face the crowd.

Phil links his arm through Clint's for the walk through the crowd along the invisible aisle. Their free hands come together atop their arms, as if they both can't stand being even the slightest bit apart. Their rings click together as they step out onto the sand. Somewhere behind him, Phil's nephew asks if they can have cake yet. It breaks the spell of silence around them all, and light conversation strikes up as the couple continue walking to their lighthouse.

Phil stops when grass is underfoot and turns to Clint, his eyes shining bright in the dying light. "I love you," he says, his voice pitched low in their private moment.

"I know." Clint can't stop his cheeky grin as Phil nudges his shoulder reproachfully. He chuckles and leans in to peck Phil's cheek. "I love you, too." He rests his cheek on Phil's shoulder. "Today's perfect."

"Almost." Phil lifts Clint's right hand to pull off the engagement ring and settle it where it really belongs. For a second, it's almost like getting married all over again and Clint will admit to himself (and maybe Phil) that he's being a giant crybaby over it. He has to do something to keep himself from crying.

He pulls back from Phil and cups the now-ringless hand to his mouth. "I'm gonna eat all the cake by myself and you can't stop me!" He hollers, laughing as his new niece and nephew charge him down, yelling like bandits. Together, hand in hand and laughing, he and his husband (husband!) run to the house where the cake is being kept with shrieking children behind them, and the rest of the gathering following at a more dignified pace.

Phil had been right about 'almost'; now, the day is perfect.


End file.
